


Riverside Orchids

by ElizabethBurr



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Habits, Healing, M/M, Post-Quest, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, frodo/sam kiss, quest memories, spring in the shire, wildflowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 07:48:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15456627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizabethBurr/pseuds/ElizabethBurr
Summary: Frodo is bathing in a creek when Sam happens upon him whilst picking wildflowers and the two share some confessions. Post-quest story of Frodo and Sam's first kiss :)





	Riverside Orchids

    Frodo gazed down at the water flowing around him, feeling the soft push of the river’s current against his spine, hearing its bubbling voice. Ever since The Ring was destroyed, Frodo has felt the need to cleanse himself of the lingering scars and pains. He has taken to bathing in the clear creek of the West Farthing Woods instead of his own tub. He found that the tumbling water on his bare skin helped soothe his panicked thoughts after a restless sleep, as the current carried his anxieties away downstream.

 

    Sam has also developed curious habits since returning to The Shire, although not ones as solemn as Frodo’s. The Ring took its toll on Frodo. Sam remembered the fateful day he and Frodo were climbing Mt. Doom, how the weight of The Ring beat on Frodo like a smith on iron. He recalled carrying Frodo up the blackened slopes on his aching shoulders, gritting his teeth as he looked upon the fiery entrance above, one step at a time. That day was one of the hardest days of his life, but it didn’t leave him with the same tortures that it left Frodo. Instead, Sam found that ever since The Quest he has looked on Frodo with a fondness that surpassed even their great friendship. Amidst all of the suffering an unbreakable bond was created. Like soldiers back from War; never the same again. A closeness that left Sam with a fluttering warmth in his heart whenever his and Frodo’s eyes met. Or when they shared a soft smile across a crowded room, as if they were speaking to each other in a language without words.

    Sam had no clue how the gentle-hobbits expressed their feelings for one another. He found that, for him, the only meaningful way of giving affection was through what he loved most: all things that grow. So, when the four Hobbits returned from The Quest and looked once again on the Shire in bloom, Sam took to picking a bouquet of wildflowers to leave in a delicate vase on Frodo’s windowsill every morning (something that at the time Frodo wondered about with mild curiosity).

 

    It was on one of these mornings that Frodo bathed in the creek while, unbeknownst to him, Sam was on one of his expeditions through the West Farthing Woods in search of the perfect wildflowers. Out of the corner of his eye, Sam spotted a flash of red and looked over to find a rare bloom of orchids nestled by the roots of an old oak tree by a creek. He ran over with joy and picked the flowers, being careful not to harm their delicate petals as he added them to the rest of his bouquet. A soft smile glowed on Sam’s face as he admired his collection. He was absently strolling in the grass when something in the creek caught his attention. His eyes went wide in shock. For there in the middle of the stream was Frodo, a far-off look on his face as he followed the water with his gaze.

“Mister Frodo!” Sam cried, his shock causing him to lose balance and tumble off the side of the bank into the creek.

“Sam!” Frodo whipped around and his eyes widened, knowing full well that Sam never properly learned how to swim (being of a lower ranking as the son of a gardener). Frodo rushed over to the other hobbit who came spluttering up from the shallow stream. “Oh Sam! You gave me a fright,” Frodo grinned, seeing that his friend was okay.

“I’m so sorry mister Frodo to have caught you at such unawares sir I swear it was all my fault you see - ”

“It’s okay Sam, no need to apologize,” Frodo said. Sam smiled, but then forlornly looked down at the now wilted Orchids in his hand with a puff of frustration.

“T’was the first time I’d seen these flowers bloom all year. Said to be a rare species….only seen twice in the whole Shire,” Sam sighed.

“Whatever were you doing clear out here in the Westfarthing Woods picking such rare flowers?” Frodo’s sapphire blue eyes pierced Sam’s. Sam, mistaking Frodo’s directness for a scolding, blushed.

“N-now sir, I’d only be picking them flowers if it were for something very important, you reckon. I wouldn’t be a-wanting to waste such lovely flowers on meself.”

“It’s okay Sam, I wouldn’t want you to go worrying…” Frodo smiled. Then, when he looked down at the wilted flowers, he recognized a few of them, and it dawned on him. With a smile he exclaimed, “Sam! Are these the same flowers that have been finding their way onto my windowsills every morning?”

“Well, if they were now you wouldn’t be cross would you Mr. Frodo?” Sam shyly grinned, avoiding eye contact.

Frodo laughed, “Oh my goodness no Sam, I wouldn’t be cross at all! They’re lovely…” he said as he lightly ran his fingers along the flower petals. Sam looked up at Frodo, whose sincereness in his eyes and gentle smile looked angelic. With a start, Sam noticed the bareness of Frodo’s narrow chest. How the water glistened on his shoulders and down his front, showering him in the soft afternoon light. The river splashed and bubbled white around his waist, hiding his figure below. Frodo’s dark locks were still dry except for the ends curling around his neck. _Oh Glory,_ Sam thought. _He’s as striking as an elf. I think I love him, I really do._ He noticed the dark wound of the Morgul blade near his shoulder and the faint scar from Shelob’s bite on the other side.

“Has it ever really healed, Mr. Frodo?” Sam asked, gazing with anxiety at the deep purple mark and the faint veins drawing out from it.

“No Sam, not really. The coldness still lingers, and at times I can feel his blade anew.”

“I would do anything to help you Mr. Frodo.”

“I know Sam, I know,” Frodo sadly smiled. He knew Sam would probably follow him off the edge of the Earth if that’s where it led him, yet Frodo still felt an emptiness inside him even amongst his companion. A loneliness has been gnawing away at the corners of his mind, an ever lingering shadow in the empty halls of Bag-End. When he and Sam were in Mordor, the ominous threat of The Eye and the constant screeching of orcs forced them to always huddle close together for protection. They were each other’s wall against the crashing waves of evil and darkness. Now, in The Shire, there were no beasts, no mountains of fire. Everything was green and fair, and the newfound freedom of peace stretched to the horizon like the vast fields of barley. Yet, this freedom was ominous, and Frodo felt as if he had been untethered and left to float aimlessly in this void. Without Sam’s warm presence next to him, Frodo felt lost.

“Sam, ever since The Quest, I’ve….I’ve felt so lonely” Frodo sighed, taking hold of Sam’s hands. He suddenly felt a longing to be pressed against Sam’s warm chest again. _Why am I so selfish? Why is the only thing I want from him something that he cannot give?_

A soft determination appeared on Sam’s face. “I know Mr. Frodo, you’ve been cooped up in Bag-End ever since The Quest. And the truth is, I feel that when we returned to The Shire a half of me has been lost. We belong together, we do.”

“Oh, Sam,” tears slowly trailed down Frodo’s face. “But you don’t understand. I love you.” Silent sobs racked through his chest. “I’m so sorry Sam, I’m so sorry. It was unfair of me to say that. I’m sorry-”

Frodo’s words were suddenly cut off by Sam’s embrace. “Shh, Mr. Frodo. Quiet now, no need to say such things,” Sam gazed into Frodo’s vulnerable eyes. “I remember when you were stabbed by that awful Nazgul at Weathertop. Hearing your scream, it tore me to pieces. I thought I’d never see you again.” Sam’s voice now trembled with sobs as well. “I couldn’t be parted with you, because I love you. You’re an angel in my eyes, don’t you see? I love you.”

“Sam…” Frodo’s brow furrowed in a mixture of happiness and distress. His hands tangled themselves in Sam’s golden hair. He remembered all the times they’ve looked at each other, seeking this closeness that seemed so real yet so far away at the same time. With a burst of passion Frodo leaned in, pressing himself against Sam’s wet shirt, and kissed Sam’s lips. For a second Sam stilled in shock, but then leaned into Frodo’s kiss, fitting their mouths together like a perfect puzzle. The touch of Sam’s tongue sent shivers down Frodo’s spine and a fluttering in his chest. They embraced each other, not wanting to let the moment pass, both realizing how much they had craved for this. A few moments passed until a cool breeze whispered down the river and sent a flurry of goosebumps through the two lovers.

“Let’s go dry off, shall we?” Frodo grinned as they finally pulled apart.

“Aye, that’s a good idea,” Sam blushed. They both waded across the creek to the shore, Frodo finding his towel and quickly patting himself dry. He climbed into his clothes, his lithe body covered once more by the billowing white sleeves and his quilted vest.

“You must be freezing Sam, here wrap yourself in this towel. It isn’t too long of a road back to Bag-End.”

“Thank you, Mr. Frodo,” Sam grinned. The trees rustled overhead, casting dappled sunlight onto the forest floor. Side by side, Frodo and Sam noticed a spark of red hidden amongst the grass. Frodo bent down and gently pushed away the foliage to expose two magnificent orchids. Sam let out a quiet gasp of joy.

“Here’s to a Spring of new beginnings,” Frodo said.

Arm in arm, the two hobbits walked back through the forest to Bag-End.

 

_**Fini** _

* * *

 

_Additional notes regarding the flowers chosen:_

Orchids: representing love, beauty, and strength, and even virility in Ancient Greek culture (https://www.teleflora.com/meaning-of-flowers/orchid). Although the Early Purple Orchids are now recognized as a wildflower species seen in England, they were once very rare and therefore highly valued when given as a gift (https://www.ftd.com/blog/share/orchid-meaning-and-symbolism). I’m not sure why I chose to make the orchids red, in fact I don’t know if there’s even such a thing as red orchids, but I liked the idea. ;)


End file.
